Girl
by notmuchmoretosay
Summary: Growing up in Richmond, VA, Sissel had never been anybody of any particular note, and even now, kept as a ward servant for Grady Memorial Hospital against her will with her life-long neighbour Noah, she knows better than to think she's anything worthy of special note. That is, until somebody shows her otherwise. That someone, you might ask? That someone... is a girl.
1. Entry 1: You Owe Us

There was a girl in my room.

Bruised and battered and unconscious on a stretcher. Her hair was long and messy and blonde, and she had a large, bloody gash on her left cheek. Her right wrist was black and blue and bent at an odd angle.

"Out!" Dawn snapped at me. "Now!"

I was already leaving, hurrying from the room and concealing the lolly-pop I'd been crunching on in my bra. This kind of thing happens every once in a while –the new patient, I mean, not the lolly-pop-in-my-bra thing. That part was just sticky and gross. But anyway, it only took a few moments of fumbling in the hallway before I put the sour apple pop back in my mouth and bit off the stick to hide it, then, like always, I got on with my duties. _An unsubstantial day,_ I thought.

But I think I was wrong.

Sorry, by the way. This is kind of an abrupt first entry, huh? It's just, this was kind of where everything started. Well, not _everything,_ because it doesn't explain why or how I got to the hospital or who the girl is or anything like that. But, that's just where I'll start. That was where everything started to finally change. And it isn't even over yet. I just wanted to document. So I'll remember it. Every time I look in this rotten old red notepad Dawn was going to throw away. So... yeah. Anyway.

* * *

"Hey." It was Noah. I'd been washing my hands in the sink, grimacing down at the bacteria I couldn't see but knew was riddled all over me. So I didn't look up. "You helpin' with laundry?"

I nodded at the sink.

"Uh... now?" he asked.

"I jus' gotta–"

"Sis." Don't get misunderstood. Despite our dark skin and similar hair styles, I'm not his sister. My name's Sissel, you see? No, I'm nobody's sibling. I'm nobody's _anything._ Not anymore. "You've been washing your hands for ten minutes. I don't know how much longer I can cover for you."

"I have to do it a certain number of times."

"I know, I know," he said, and took a seat on the toilet. Lid down, thankfully. Though, he isn't a stranger to taking a dump in front of me. "Just, hurry it up. I don't want another juncture extension."

I scoffed. The, _I hate you,_ kind. Not him, though. _Them._

"Sis, c'mon."

" _Wait,_ " I hissed, scrubbing so hard I could feel my skin splitting.

"Wasn't one lashing enough the last time?" Noah asked.

 _Like damned slaves,_ I thought. _Isn't it ironic enough that the world ended and the dead came back to eat the living?_

"Dawn won't just take it out on you, you know."

I stopped then. It seems guilt is enough to pause the compulsions, sometimes. But only for a moment. When the pressure built again, I went right back to scrubbing. So it was Noah who pulled my hands from under the water flow. Without a word he switched the tap off, dries me with a towel, and smiled, dabbing over the wet. Small swells of blood grew and trickled into my pores and I frowned at his pale blue hospital overalls.

"There's a new girl."

"Yeah?" he said, focussing on my hands.

I nodded. Stopped when I saw the smirk on the corner of his lips, ignored it. "She took my bed and interrupted my alone time."

Noah looked up then, suddenly. " _Alone time_? Wait, you were..."

" _No,_ " I grumbled, and pulled the thin, white stick from my pocket. "I was taking my offer from the Lolly-pop Guild."

He laughed, all tiredly and hopefully. Noah's always a strange mixture of the two. He walks and talks and sits and stands and breathes like he's slouching and just about close to collapsing, but he's so confident. He always believes in himself, in me, in the world. I both hate and love his optimism, so much so that, at the same time, I kind of depend on it, too.

"Oh, _I'm_ the Lolly-pop Guild now?" he said, cocking a soot-black eyebrow.

"Yep," I nodded, winced when he'd dabbed a particularly sore part of my knuckle.

"So, why'd you bring the girl up?" he asked.

"I told you," I frowned. "She took my room."

"No, Sis..." he said, watching me. Noah's eyes are so dark that sometimes I get scared they'll swallow me whole. Then again, my own eyes are so dark, too, that he'd probably have to put up a fight to manage it. "Why'd you _really_ bring her up?"

I took a breath, held it for a second, saw in my reflection the anxiety tightening my light brown features. I looked at my head. It's almost bald now. I could only just see the tight black curls starting to grow through again.

"She's been put under Dawn," I said finally.

"With us?" he said, hopeful. But I shook my head, and suddenly, the hope I was relying on so hard flittered away from his eyes like ash. "Wait," he said then, "wait, you mean, she's replacing–" He stopped when I started nodding, my eyes welling. "No."

"I'm being moved under Lamson now."

The hope returned, slowly and then suddenly. "That... That's good," Noah blurted. It's true. Officer Lamson isn't like the other officers at Grady. He doesn't – "Lamson's kinder than Dawn." Don't get Noah wrong. Dawn isn't kind. Neither is Lamson, really. But they don't take advantage of their power the way most of the other officers do. Though, just because I'd been under Dawn's servant sector for the last ten months doesn't mean that I haven't had to go through what a lot of the girls here have to, and some of the guys. But it means that I don't have to go through it as much. We never talk about it, but, it's something.

"C'mon," Noah said dubiously, and tossed the reddened towel into the laundry bin. "Let's get to work."

* * *

"Psst."

I was in a new room. Later the same day. Fifth floor, like everybody else still. I'd gotten used to my old room. I liked the clock that drove me insane with its ticking. I liked the pale yellow poster on the wall that said _Get Well Soon_ with a blue clock in it and the word _Now_ written where the numbers would've been. I liked my chair, and all of the empty outlet sockets. This room isn't really much different. Smaller, and it doesn't have the poster or a clock. But I'm adjusting. I kind of have no choice.

"Psst!" Again.

I sat up, squinted, stared at the dark and wondered if my door was open or if my mind was playing tricks on me. "Hello?"

"Sis?"

". . . Joan?"

"Yeah." She stepped into the room, and I thought I would cry with relief that it was her and not Officer Gormon or one of the others. "You have to come with me. We're leaving."

"What?" I hissed, struggling when she grabbed my arm and pulled. I felt her knotted frizzy hair swat at my cheeks, her fingers spread and gripping. "Wait, Joan... what're you talking about?"

"I found a way out. Come on, we have to go now. Gormon just finished." I knew what she meant, and it made me look at her more closely. Focussing in the dark. I saw the water in her eyes, the red marks on her neck and collarbones, the forming bruises over her jaw and shoulder, the lopsidedness of her overalls and the stains. "He'll come back. And not just for me."

"Joan," was all I could say.

"Sissel," she hissed. "We need to go, _now._ "

But I didn't. Too afraid. The proper term might be Stockholm Syndrome.

"Fine," Joan growled. "Stay here and rot."

"You'll die out there," I whispered, but didn't follow her to the door. "You'll just be another one of them _._ "

"I'd rather that over staying here," she whispered back. "You're all sheep in here. Waiting for slaughter. But you? You're lining up by yourself now. You're _smiling_ while they slit your throat and hang you by your heels."

Then she was gone.

The worst part was, she was right.

* * *

Okay, so now we're up to today. Because what happened next only happened a few minutes ago.

It's three days later and Joan's still gone, and I've been telling myself that she's dead and that it was the right decision not to go with her. I'm telling myself that Gormon's nightly stealings of me isn't anything I can't handle. I'm telling myself that I can stay alive with the exhausted hopefulness of Noah and the rationed food that added to my juncture extension here.

It was as I was walking past my old room, empty bucket in one hand and a mop in my other, that she woke up. She wrapped her fists against the door, shouting, "Hey!" and, "Hello! Hey!"

I fell, startling so badly that the empty bucket flew from my grip, clattering and smacking to the hospital floor. Dawn and Steven –who is the only Doctor, both heard the accident, rushing over when I pointed a shaking finger. They unlocked the door.

"Everything's okay," Steven said. I couldn't see past his white Doctor's coat. "Okay?"

"Put it down," Dawn ordered. "Drop it, right now."

I heard a soft clatter, saw the IV stand and its needle attached drop to the floor by the pair of pale feet next to it. I peeked around the hem of Steven's coat, still rather gracelessly crumpled on the floor, and I saw her. She looked so different awake. Terrified and tense and inflated like a spooked cat. I'd had to change her IV bag a few times since her arrival, and so I'd had time to get accustomed to her unconscious state. Her soft, fair features and slow breath and parted lips that looked like they had a thousand fairy-tales to share. In my head, I'd taken to calling her Girl. As if it were a name and not just an assigned gender.

Steven sighed. "I'm Doctor Steven Edwards. This is Officer Dawn Lerner. How are you feeling?"  
Her hands were spread apart either side of her, and I saw the trickle of red from her inside elbow where she'd torn out her needle. "Where am I?" she asked, her voice soft and shaky. I must have moved, because her eyes snapped to me, and even from the few yards distance I could see the blue in them clear as day. The kind of blue you find in a deep stream, a little yellow from the rocks at the base around her pupils like a faded wedding ring.

"Grady Memorial Hospital," Steven answered. Her eyes shot back to him. "in Atlanta."

 _Hell on Earth, my friend,_ I thought, quietly picking myself up off the floor when another servant; an old, pale, grey man called Henry, gestured me to get on my way before any of the other officers showed up.

"How did I get here?" I heard her ask, and her voice pulled me to stop and listen.

"My officers found you on the side of the road surrounded by rotters," Dawn answered.

"Your wrist was fractured," Steven said, "and you sustained a superficial head wound. Can you remember your name?"

"Beth," she said, and I didn't mean to feel surprised that her real name hadn't turned out to be Girl. "The man I was with. Is... he here, too?"

"You were alone," Dawn said. She sounded so friendly. _Lies lies lies._ "If we hadn't saved you, you'd be one of them right now."

 _And here comes the catch,_ I thought, grabbing the mop and bucket and walking away, knowing what it would be without even having to hear it. . .

"So you owe us."

Same as alw

Shit. I have to go.

* * *

 **Notes**

Um. Yep.

I know. _Another_ LGBTQ+ story. We _get it,_ Walker. You support LGBTQ+ things!

I just, wanted to do this one, finally. It's been plaguing my brain for months and I needed to get it out of my system! Anyway, tell me what you thought x recommendations and constructive criticism is always welcome xx Depending on how interested any of you are the sooner I'll post the next chapter xxx

I gotta be honest, I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this...

:D

Happy reading xx : _)_


	2. Entry 2: Skies, Trees, Storms & People

**Guest** Thank you. Yeah, the good thing about wanting to write LGBTQ+ stuff is that it isn't a widely written about area, so there's a lot of material to cover and have it still be something different.

 **BloodGutsandChocolatePudding** Thanks! X

 **NewWalker** POOPY HEAD I LOVE YOU! Btw next time you see me you'll see my haircut! It's all coming off, Sherlock!

 **Blueberry** Cute ID name! Yeah, it's been so interesting writing it. But I'm loving Sis and her story so it should be okay x thank you!

 **Biter Two** Love you!

 **Guest** Yeah, I kept seeing all those strange faces and I kept wondering what their stories were. So I made up one :)

 **JessieMellow99** Nono, its okay! God, I can't believe you even looked twice at my old shit. I was terrible! Reading your review made me feel like crying. Thank you so madly much that's so amazing of you to say! No, I don't think it was creepy at all. You totally made my day! Thank you thank you that means the world!

 **AGGXX5** Thank you! Sorry it took so long.

* * *

 **Beginning of chapter:**

* * *

Guy they found under a bridge a week ago died. Didn't show any signs of improvement. That was it. Dawn called it. I saw Beth and Steven carting the body to the elevator shaft. When she saw me I picked up my mop and bucket and went on my way. I've gone with Steven to dispose of the bodies before. The elevator shaft fell back when this whole mess started, before I got here, and now its like our own version of a black hole. What goes down there doesn't come back up.

Use everything you can use, though, right?

"You're lookin' better and better," I heard Gormon this morning. I was in the cafeteria eating for the first time in a few days (except the Lolly-pop Guild's charitable donations). Grady's good for weight loss –since I'm not exactly the thinnest girl in the world, but it isn't great for much else. Gormon was talking to Girl –I mean, Beth, over at the canteen, leaning over the counter while she tried to ignore him. "We had a lead on some guys," I think he told her. "Partner and I were pretty far out. That's when we saw you. _Wrigglin'_ in the road." He laughed then. It was the same laugh I know too well. It means: _I'm wondering what you taste like. I'm wondering how much of a fight you'll put up. I'm wondering wh_ _a_ _t it will feel like when I_ –doesn't matter. "You don't remember me, huh?" he asked her then.

"I was... fightin' a walker," she said. I knew her voice was soft and Southern, but it still surprised me since I'd first heard it. She shook her head. "Then, everythin' went black."

"Yeah," Gormon said. "One was... eyein' your _thighs_ when we showed up, but, I got there first." _Bastard._ "Jacked that rotter up..."

She tried to keep filling her trays. Gormon didn't appreciate the lack of attention.

"I'm Gormon. When someone does you a favour, it's courtesy to show some appreciation... unless you want me to write down everythin' your taking."

She looked up, suddenly. I didn't realise until it was too late that I'd risen from my own seat.

"Everythin' costs somethin', right?" he said, grinned when he saw me. She looked around, too, and I tightened every muscle I owned, stopped walking. There was a pause, and I saw the confusion in her expression. The smugness in his. Until it got too long and she left with only the one tray instead of two, taking it to Steven like she'd been asked. I knew this because when she'd come in she'd asked for Steven's usual: Guinea-pig. Gormon wrote it down anyway. I knew he was watching me so I wolfed down the rest of my food and left.

Joan was found.

I'm not sure why I didn't write that down first. It was kind of awful. She got bit. But she still fought. When the officers dragged her into the hallway, bleeding and screaming, I had to help them hold her down. She looked at me the same way she looked at Dawn and Gormon and Steven, like I was the monster, like I was who'd bitten her. I'm not sure what happened but I think I fell, because the next thing I was aware of was that Steven and Beth were inside the room, and I was looking up at them from the floor, and people were shouting, and I saw the first few seconds of Steven sawing Joan's arm off before I was dragged out of the room by my collar.

It took me a few moments to realise it was Noah, and he took me to the laundry room and sat with me until I could stop crying.

"It's my fault."

"No, Sis."

"It is. She was in my room. She wanted me to go with her."

I'm not sure what else he said, just that I held on to him and cried into his chest for longer than I'm willing to admit, and Noah remained hopefully exhausted until I could put myself together again. When I did, he got up and went to the ironing board. I sat on the crate next to the sink staring at the floor, focussing on breathing while he went about ironing more pale blue overalls.

It was a little while later before she showed up. The girl. She stepped through the door, looking dazed and spooked and blank. Her hair was up in a ponytail, messy and falling loose. Her cheek looked especially more red than before, and I frowned at it, saw the blood stain on the overall top she had in her hands.

"You okay?" Noah asked her, but when he realised we all knew the answer, he added, "this is Sissel. I'm Noah," to spare her from having to answer. He glanced at me and smirked, "I'm the uh, Lolly-pop Guild."

Noah has this smile that can make you trust anything he says, and what was even better, you _could_ trust it, too, and it was easy to come to the realisation in almost the same moment of seeing it, like, _Oh, yeah. Right. I can trust this guy, duh._ So her face softened, and she said, "Beth."

 _Girl,_ I still thought.

"Thanks for that," she said to him, then glanced at me. I smiled, too. Though I knew mine wasn't nearly as trustworthy. I don't even know if I deserve it to be anyway.

Noah, as confident as he's always been, continued the conversation: "Figured you could use the pick-me-up, after this morning." Then he glanced at me for the shortest moment. I heard his internal, _I_ _think she might be one of us._ Thinking it through to me. I didn't think anything back so he looked at her again and took from her hands the bloodied overall top he'd given her mere hours ago. He smiled bitterly, annoyed but not surprised, and said, "Guess I shoulda brought the whole jar."

He set the iron on the side and put the clothing in the dirty pile, and Beth looked at me again, smiled politely like she was worried I'd tell her to leave. Noah tells me I have this face I make when I'm resting, that I look annoyed and like I'm scowling, so I tried to lift my eyebrows and soften my expression. But I guess I still looked pissed because she stopped smiling, took the new shirt that Noah handed her.

"Here," he said, "this should fit."

There was a pause. I'd stopped watching her, no energy left.

"You know what happened with Joan?" she said then, and my eyes locked onto her sneakers, but I didn't allow them to lift to her face this time. Noah turned to listen to her. "If she'da stayed. Worked for a while. Couldn't she've just left?"

Noah almost laughed. Again, I didn't do anything. "Uh," he said. "Haven't seen it work like that."

"How long've you been here?" she asked.

"Jus' about a year. Sis; a few days after me. But we've known each other since we were kids."

She looked at both of us one at a time, her mouth opening and closing. She's already pretty pale, but the dread turned her into a ghost. For a second I got afraid I'd be able to see right through her. I tried to smile then, to be of any comfort despite not having much for myself. Noah, like usual, did a better job: He pulled up the leg of his overalls and showed the long dark scar that ran all the way from his ankle up to the back of his knee.

"We were pretty messed up when they found us," he explained. "Said that they could _'only save the two of us,'._ " Noah folded his pant leg back down. "For the longest time I actually believed them. Now I get it. My dad was bigger. Stronger... woulda fought back. Woulda been a threat."

"They left him behind on purpose," she didn't ask.

"And Dawn jus' looked the other day," he said. "See, she's _in charge_ but... just barely. And it's gettin' worse. That's why Sis and I're outa here when the time is right."

 _Dammit,_ I thought. _Noah, shut the hell up._

"What happened to you?" she asked me. I hadn't looked up from her sneakers.

"We came here looking for my uncle and Sis' sister," Noah said. "Got separated when it all went down." He made a murmuring noise then, deciding for my sake to stop that part of the back-story before he got into it. "I'm gonna get back to my mom. We're gonna get home."

Beth was watching me then, and it was only when I brought my hand up to my temple at some small attempt to hide my face that she looked back to Noah again, asking us, "Where's home?"

"Richmond," Noah said proudly, grinning like the brilliant moron he is. Tired and hopeful just the way I needed him to be. "Virginia." He was nodding, too. Nodding like, _Yeah, Virginia with its big skies and tall trees and hard storms and living people._ "We had walls."

Beth stared at him in awe. It as the same awe I look at him with. The same awe I grew up looking at him with.

"They _think_ we're scrawny," he said. "They _think_ we're weak. But they don't know shit about either of us." I wanted him to stop. He wasn't talking about me and I knew it. He knew it, too, but he refused to believe it. I was afraid it would get him killed, because I know it will one day. "About what we are," he went on. "About what _you_ are."

Beth was smiling, and I watched the smile grow and grow but in such a way you'd hardly notice it. Like watching a flower bloom. For a moment the voice in my head said, _Maybe,_ and I tried to ignore it, but it didn't go away. . . _Maybe he's right._

* * *

 **Notes**

Sorry this took so freaking long. And I'm sorry this was short. This is coming together, I promise, it's just that this story seems far closer to home than most I write, and so it's become rather stressful trying to write it. But I'm getting there and I kind of love writing it. Hope you enjoyed!

As always,  
Happy reading xx : _)_


	3. Entry 3: Slabtown

**BloodGutsandChocolatePudding** Ahahaha thank you so much you queen x

 **Biter two** Thank you. I hope I do it justice x)

 **Anna Katharyn** Sorry it takes so long x

* * *

 **Thingy to know: /\/ after a word means that Sissel 's scribbled something out of the diary.**

 **Also, warning: Racist language, implications of sexual assault. Ah, sorry, dark *winces determinedly***

* * *

Joan's recovering. I haven't talked to her. Not even in the two days she's been back. She's been put under Lamson's Ward, but mostly so that Gormon won't be able to get her so easily. But it also means that I was switched from Lamson's Ward to Gormon's... He/\/

Beth told me Joan was asking for me yesterday. I lied and said I'd go, but I didn't. Then, later that day when I was told to go mop, I bribed Henry with a Lollipop Guild tribute to swap our duties. Got caught. But it's whatever – like, four more bruises to add to the collection. Henry got to keep his _Wild Strawberry Pop_ so as far as I'm concerned the beating was worth it for him.

"Slabtown," Beth murmured earlier this morning. I'd been teaching her how to medicate patients for a few hours. Just the simple stuff that we're all supposed to know; how to administer an injection, treat a minor injury, reset a dislocated shoulder, all that. When I was allowed off duty I went back to her room with her while she went about cleaning the stains out of a few rags from the operating room. I would have helped but she told me it was okay. It was kind of nice. Quiet and calm, and we were just talking. Can't remember everything what about but at one point I'd offered her another lollipop. I keep a stash in my pocket from what Noah steals from Gormon's office. Noah's kind of a mild controlled kleptomaniac, but nobody knows that but me. Anyway, Beth said she still had her first pop under her mattress. Said she was saving it for later.

I'd been pulling at a hangnail, so I looked up at her. She was watching me. Her eyes blue and yellow and big and curious.

"Slabtown," I said back when she didn't say anything else. It was actually me who'd said it first, a moment or so before her, something like: _"'Saving for later'_ _in Slabtown means 'the first chance you get'_ so I wouldn't wait too long if I were you _."_

"Why do I keep hearin' that word?" she asked then.

I tutted through my teeth, "You ask a lot of questions, girl."

She does, too. All through teaching earlier, I'd heard, _What's that for? Why do you have to stitch with that? How do you tell the difference between a gauze or a bandage? How do you flush out a wound? Why do you clean your hands so much?_

"Oh, sorry," she apologised.

I smiled. I must've ran my hand through over my head or something because Beth motioned to me.

"I like your hair," she said.

"Thanks," I replied, but I didn't tell her about the part where I hate it. Dreadlocks. That's how I like it. That's how I've always worn it. Before Officer O'Donnell took a razor to it when I'd forgotten to change the solar inverter last month, that is. My dad was an electrician, you see, so other than cleaning and being a slave to whoever chooses me, my other 'duties' include maintaining the power.

I miss my hair, as vain as it sounds.

I miss a lot of things, like my Dad, Mom, and my brothers and sisters, even my damned pet cat, although I don't consider missing them quite as vain. It just hurts. When you care about something, getting hurt is just kind of part of the package.

"Slabtown," I said then, again, deciding to answer one more question. "It's just the nickname of this place. Back in the eighteen-forties or something, before it was a hospital, Slab Town was a red-light district here."

She was smiling then, her brow creased together. She was fiddling with her cast, still blood stained. "It's crazy you even know that."

"I've been here a while," I explained. "I get to reading, mostly the old newspapers in Steven's office. You know, for when wiping cabinets and mopping floors and changing light-bulbs doesn't _enthral_ me enough." She was grinning. _I_ made that happen. "Passes the time nicely," I kept going, greedy for more, "'til somebody comes and saves us all from this hell hole, at least."

Her smile faded. . .

"Y'all are deluded if you think someone's comin' to save you."

My smile faded, too. . .

"I know," I said. Meant it. "I was just trying to be optimistic... Noah's better at it than I am."

She seemed empathetic, and looked like she would say why, but instead she turned and kept cleaning. Her cast was getting wet and the water was murky, and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. It was almost matted. Our conversation was over, I knew, so I got up.

" _Sour Apple_ 's still under the mattress," I said as I left, softly, and I was sure that I saw the corner of her lips twitch upward as I did. It took me until I was half way down the corridor to realise I was smiling too. But then I saw Gormon, and I stopped smiling. Stopped breathing. Dipped my head and pretended I was invisible. It's the usual response you give when most officers are around. He walked right past me.

But I saw it.

It dangled from between his fingers...

The _Sour Apple_ lollipop.

I turned and stared, because he had that grin. The same one that turns me to pulp inside, and I watched him stop outside Beth's room and watch her, and a whole new thing happened inside of me. I turned to stone. Then when he stepped inside, I crumbled. Next thing I knew, I was running. Steven was in his office, I knew, and I know him, Steven. I don't like him but I _know_ him. He's one of the good ones.

"Please," was what I said first. I'm not sure I've been so scared my entire life. My hands were clammy when he took them in both of his. I pulled, said it again, "Please."

"What's wrong, Sissel?" He was wearing his glasses on his forehead and I was so nervous that I pushed them down for him, like it might've helped him understand what I was trying to do without me having to say it. It didn't work. He just looked at me like I was mad. Like this place had finally done it. Broken me. "Girl – The girl," I think I said. "Beth. Gormon... He's..."

Steven's expression fell.

"Please," I said again. I may have cursed but I can't remember. But he went. I followed him after a few moments. The door into her room was still open, which meant he hadn't started yet.

"Leave her alone," I heard Steven say, and a few moments later I was hiding behind the wall next to the door, holding my breath, afraid and relieved all at once. The floor was shiny under my sneakers. I was afraid of moving too fast, making it squeak, so I stayed still, frozen.

"Girl should'a been mine," Gormon grumbled.

"Nobody's _yours_ ," Steven said, "Gormon... _Nobody._ "

 _Except me.  
And Sarah.  
_ _And Lacy.  
_ _And Kelly._

"And if you think you're getting Joan back–"

"Oh, I'm gonna get her back," the officer said. "Gonna keep the negress, too. What, you think Dawn's gonna _stop_ me?"

"I will," Steven said. His voice quivered.

"You steppin' up, Doc?" Gormon asked, only it was a threat.

"What happens when you get sick, Gormon?" Steven asked, too, and it was also a threat. "When you get an infection? When you get bit?

Gormon wasn't afraid. . .

"Think there's gonna be somebody," he said. "Somebody who ain't _you..._ "

Thing is, it's true.

I had to go then. Dawn and O'Donnell were coming.

"Gormon," I heard Dawn say from down the hallway, and what Gormon said next was just as true as his last statement. . .

"And maybe somebody in charge, who ain't her..."

A while later Noah and I were doing our daily clean of the fifth floor. I was armed with a cloth and dusting spray, avoiding Joan's room. Noah was mopping. When I saw Beth wander back from wherever Steven had taken her, I leant against the window and peeked through the blinds. Her hands were careful and soft while she administered the medication like I'd taught her. I was looking at her face. Soft and careful, too. It's comforting, somehow. I spend a lot of time not looking at faces. But hers? Looking at it is like watching your favourite TV show before its air-date, like watching a bird fly, or bread rise in the oven, or choosing all your favourite pizza toppings.

I jumped when Noah tapped on the glass from the other side in the hallway. Dropped my cloth. He smirked, said something about my pupils, then looked over his shoulder at what I'd been looking at. His smirk grew. I widened my eyes desperately, because he was backing away from me, glass between us, grinning menacingly.

"Noah," I hissed, " _don't._ " Swear to God. " _Don't_ you freaking d..."

He was already at the door, stepping into the room. It was the room another patient was in. Gavin Trevit. He was brought in when he was found after a bad fall that left him with internal bleeding and a collapsed lung, but Dawn was adamant that he survived. More so that for most of them. He was a doctor, you see? So we need him.

"Still at it, huh?" Noah asked her.

Beth startled, then put down the syringe and smiled at him, a little confused at how wide his grin was. She saw me, and I wasn't sure but maybe her smile grew a little, and yes, alright, fine, I smiled back.

"Hey," she said.

Only the smiles didn't last long.

The man went into a seizure. There was nothing we could do. We shouted for help but Trevit was dead before Dawn, Steven or Gormon could get there. Dawn sorted him, because you don't have to get bitten to turn. You just need to die. The virus... We're all infected; found that out the hard way...

"What did you do to him?" Dawn asked the girl, furious, waving the pair bloody scissors she'd just driven through Trevit's skull. Gormon was stood in the doorway. Steven was over by the wall. Noah was stood next to me, and Beth was in front of us, hunched, terrified.  
She was stuttering.

"He was _fine,_ " Darn went on venomously. "Until the three of you were alone with him... Something happened." She waved scissors again, and the hairs on my neck stood on end. "Tell me."

Beth started panicking. I already knew that whatever she said was going to get her punished either way. Me and Noah, too, by default of witness.

"It was an accident," Noah cut her off before she could speak anyway. I stared at him. "Beth left to get some gauze. Sis was next door dusting. I was mopping." I knew what he was doing. Taking the blame himself. God, that bastard./\/ That fucking bastard!/\/ "I must'a unplugged the ventilators somehow."

I was frozen. Like a coward. Like always.

"But that's n–" Beth tried.

"It only stopped for a minute," Noah said over her. "I got it working again."

"Take him to my office," Dawn said, and so Noah took the punishment and was led away and beaten. When I tried to beg them not to Gormon brought his hand against my mouth and shoved me to the floor, so I didn't do anything. Just dipped my head and pretended I was invisible. Coward, see?

"That's not what happened," Beth said to Steven when the officers and Noah were inside. "He just started seizin'."

"You gave him Clonazepam, right?" he asked, and then Beth's face went white.

You know, white people aren't really white, despite how much people use the word. Not until you see them scared. Then white people are white. White like paper. White like _white_.

"Clozapine," she said. Quiet. So quiet I could barely hear her. "You said... Clozapine."

"No," Steven said. "I didn't."

Beth was screaming then, crying. We heard it. All of it. Noah's cries and grunts and screams. I got so furious at myself, at her, and/\/ God, I know I shouldn't have but I told her that it was her fault. I screamed it at her. Grabbed her. Gormon had to come in and pull me off of her. Dawn was busy beating Noah, and Steven was trying to calm Beth down, and so Gormon knew he could do it, get away with it, in broad daylight, and so he dragged me down the hallway and/\/

* * *

 **Notes**

Nyah this story is so much darker than I thought it would be Grady is horrible!

I also realised I've been spelling Sissel's name withe two _L_ 's... and I' still not sure that's how you spell it but I'm going to stick to just the one _L_ for now.

Tell me what you thought of this one x


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